


Two to Tango

by Devereauxs_Disease



Series: Love Languages [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Time, Fluff, Hannibal Loves Will, M/M, Prequel, SO MUCH FLUFF, Tango, Will Loves Hannibal, but he's still salty about that, but still need to work on talking it out, seriously- check your sugar levels before reading, these boys love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 06:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: Hannibal and Will have been dancing around each other for years, so of course the good doctor invites Will to a tango festival in Buenos Aires. Can Will take the next step in his relationship with Hannibal? Or is he doomed to repeat the same steps for eternity?Prequel to Love by Any Other Name





	Two to Tango

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harleygirl2648](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harleygirl2648/gifts).



> Harleygirl2648 requested a follow up to my Love by Any Other Name fic, to find out what, exactly, went down at the tango festival. So this shameless sappy mess is all Harley's fault! 
> 
> Thank you so much to Llewcie, who reads my horrid nonsense and then makes it better.

          “The last thing I want is to spend 8 days with you, wearing itchy suits and listening to you show off in Spanish. I don’t even dance.” Will had been up for 10 minutes; he  didn’t have the energy or the patience to deal with Hannibal and his infernal tango festival again. He’d said no.

          “I’m not asking you to do any of those things. I just wanted you to see the festival, Will.” Hannibal was on his heels; he had been waiting outside of Will’s bedroom when the empath opened the door. “It’s an excellent festival, not stuffy at all. I think you’d enjoy the dancing and the food. The music is beautiful.”

          Will could see them dancing under a giant chandelier in a gaudy ballroom, Hannibal staring at him with intense eyes, socialites muttering about the scruffy man on Hannibal’s arm. After a week of arguing, Will could admit to himself that he didn’t mind the idea of being in Hannibal’s arms all night. He just didn’t want Hannibal to know he didn’t mind. Not yet. 

          “It sounds awful.”

          “Food, music, and dancing sounds awful?” Will could tell Hannibal was gearing up for a long argument. Without the energy to mount a proper defense, the empath was stuck with shock and awe as his only option.

          “WHY DO YOU FUCKING CARE IF I GO?”

          “BECAUSE I ENJOY YOUR FUCKING COMPANY!” Even Hannibal seemed stunned by the shout, quickly collecting himself and running a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to show you the city, the beauty of the sights and culture. I’ve arranged for a dog sitter to come to the house; her references are excellent and I-”

          “Cancel her. I’ll be home that week.” Will stomped out of the kitchen, hating the guilt he felt when Hannibal didn’t follow or argue. The dogs trailed behind him, filled with nervous energy from raised voices. He looked at their bright eyes and smiled. “I think we could all use some fresh air, come on, guys.”

          Will let the door of his work shed bang into the wall. He walked in long, strides, pacing like a caged beast. Carl and Johann followed at his heels, hoping he would lead them to food or a good place to roll.

          “He never danced in Baltimore,” Will argued to Carl. “We did the electric slide at the FBI New Year’s party – guess  who wasn’t on the floor?”

          Carl tilted his head. Johann chewed his foot thoughtfully.

          Will flopped on his bench, flicking open his tackle box and pulling out the top tray. He looked into the bottom of the box, fingers brushing over a year’s worth of treasure. He picked up the thumb bone and worried it between his fingers.  

          “Why is this stupid festival so goddamn important?”

          Carl wagged his tail. Will put the bone down and rubbed at his eyes.

          “Because he thinks if he takes me, we’ll fuck.”

          Johann huffed out a small bark, looking at Will intently.

          “Because I don’t want to go!” Will said miserably. But that wasn’t quite right. He rolled his neck, trying to get the tension out. “Because if I go, I’m gonna fuck him.”

          A sharp whistle from the kitchen drew Carl and Johann away. Their love for their master was no match for breakfast.

          “Thanks guys, good talk.”

          Will glared down at the tackle box again. A thumb bone, a collar, and a sewing kit – the total sum of his life after the fall. Reminders of the exquisite pain and beauty he’d experienced in the past year. Reminders of his times with Hannibal.

          Realization hit him hard as he focused on each of the ramshackle tokens – he was always going to fuck Hannibal. No one uninterested collected mementos from people they didn’t like. No one uninterested squirreled them away in a tackle box, running their fingers over each reverently when they were sure they wouldn’t be caught.

          With a sigh, he finally let himself admit it – if only in the quiet clamor of his own mind – he was in love with Hannibal Lecter. And refusing a romantic weekend in Buenos Aires didn’t mean that he’d go on resisting the doctor for years. It only meant that their first time together would probably be on a Tuesday, in the kitchen, when Will could no longer watch Hannibal curl his lip as he washed greens without sucking that expression off his face. He was filling his tackle box no matter what; he might as well admit that he wanted Hannibal too.

          With a little nod, Will packed away his treasures and marched back to the kitchen.

          “I’ll go, but I’m not wearing any fancy fucking clothes, I’m not fucking dancing, and I’m going to complain the whole time.”

          “So a typical weekend together? Wonderful!” Hannibal clapped his hands, his face creasing into a genuine smile filled with crooked teeth and laugh lines. Will wanted to kiss him. Instead, he accepted the coffee and eggs Florentine Hannibal handed him. “I’ll book our rooms now, shall I?”

          Before Will could answer, Hannibal had his cell pressed to his ear, speaking in rapid-fire Spanish. Will couldn’t pick out much, but he was able to discern that Hannibal had made the reservations weeks ago, and was merely confirming them.

          He rolled his eyes and left the kitchen. He had cargo shorts to pack.

* * *

          “Reservation for Verger, two rooms,” Hannibal said with a polite nod toward the man behind the desk.

          Will frowned. “Two rooms.”

          “They’re adjoining, so we can have breakfast and plan our day,” Hannibal explained. He had an odd giddy energy running through him that made Will want to take his hand so he might feel the surges of it.

          Will allowed himself to be ushered into his suite, running his hand over the big plush bed and wondering why Hannibal had bothered with the room. It must be part of his seduction ploy – to make Will feel at ease before he pounced. With a little smile, Will tested the spring of the mattress. It had taken Will a bit of time, but the empath had finally decided a little pouncing wouldn’t be so bad.

          “Raúl?” Will turned to see Hannibal standing in the doorway with a serious young woman in an impeccable suit. “This is Sara, our butler during the stay. The hotel provides the guests with one; isn’t that charming?”

          Will nodded at her.

          “If you have any outfits that need to be pressed or any needs whatsoever, please let me know.” Sara nodded in return. “I already have Dr. Verger’s suit for pressing; do you need me to-”

          “Raúl is not a pressed person,” Hannibal said with a fond smile. “However, I’m sure he’d enjoy some fresh fruit when you have a moment, Sara.”

          “Yes, of course.” She seemed to evaporate before Will’s eyes, off to complete her tasks with stunning efficiency.

          “Would you like to take a tour of the town, Will?”

          Hannibal was careful to remain on his side of the threshold, even as he exuded quiet confidence. Will would rather spend the day feeding each other fruit in bed, but if they were going to play the long game, Will intended to win.

          “No.” Will yawned. “I think I’ll take a nap and then get ready for your little tango prom or whatever it is.”

          He tried not to smile when Hannibal’s mouth ticked to a frown. “Of course. Enjoy your nap.”

          “Sure, what time should I meet you for the shindig?”

          “Seven should be fine.”

          “Great, see you then.” He shut the door in Hannibal’s face, locking it for good measure. Tiptoeing to the hall, he looked down the empty corridors with a glare.

          “Damn it, Sara. Where are you when I need you?”

          “Here, señor.”

          Will leaped in the air, grabbing his chest as he turned to the small woman, who was holding a tray of fresh fruit in on hand. “JESUS. You’re just like Dr. Verger. Where did you come from?”

          “Did you need something, señor?” Will noted she also expressed her irritation solely through eyebrow twitches, just like Hannibal.

          “Uh yeah.” Will held the door open for her and lead her to his duffle bag. After digging around in the bottom for a moment, he procured two scuffed dress shoes, a balled-up pair of dress slacks, and a black cotton dress shirt that seemed to be tied into a knot. “Can you uh…”

          “Perform a miracle?” Sara offered, picking at the clothes as if they may be diseased. With a sigh, she offered Will a resolute nod. “Si, I can perform miracles.”

          “And, uh, could you make sure Dr. Verger doesn’t know about this?” Will scratched the back of his head, with a small smile. “I was hoping to surprise him.”

          Sara stepped back, clothes and shoes in hand to regard Will with a skeptical eye. “I shall call a barber to come to your room.”

          “What? That’s not necessary.”

          “It is. He’ll arrive in one hour.” Sara looked him over one more time. “May I suggest you use that time for a shower señor? We  have excellent products from Hermès in the bath.”

          “Well, I was going to shower,” Will blustered at the mini-Hannibal before him.

          “Yes of course.” Sara sounded weary. “One hour for the barber, two for the suit. You shall be an impressive sight for the doctor. Be sure to eat the fruit. Very sweet, good for…taste.”

          Will blinked at the implication, but Sara was gone before he could question her. With a sigh, he grabbed a pear and sank his teeth into the flesh. It wouldn’t do to upset Hannibal’s palate.

* * *

          Will looked himself over in the mirror. Sara had done wonders for the black shirt and suit pants he’d pulled out of the bottom of his bag. She pressed the material until it shined and lay beautifully along his body. His shoes were so supple and scuff free, he suspected she’d just replaced them entirely.

          The barber she brought to his room had trimmed and styled his curls until they shone. One rogue lock fell onto his forehead, but the barber had assured him it sold the look. He’d also had the man shave him, spending his time under the blade wondering if he could convince Hannibal to perform the same service, but with fewer clothes, when they returned home.

          With a turn, Will nodded to his reflection. This was as beautiful as he was ever going to get and Hannibal fucking Lecter better appreciate it. He would be an elegant compliment to whatever bit of peacock finery Hannibal chose for the evening.

          Hannibal opened the door on the first knock, and Will was temporarily struck with the notion that he should have brought flowers or chocolates with him to the door.

          “Will,” Hannibal’s hand moved up as if to touch Will’s face, but he stilled the movement. Will found himself leaning forward for a touch that wasn’t coming. “You look…you are a vision.”

          It was the exact reaction Will had wanted, but he found himself unable to do anything but lean against the door frame, contemplating the strange beauty of Hannibal fucking Lecter. 

          The doctor had chosen a crisp white shirt, undone around his throat and collarbone, paired with a slim fitting black suit for their night at the milonga. His hair was free of its typical gel, falling loosely across his eyes and making the world’s most deadly cannibal seem boyish and shy as he peered from beneath the bangs. Two days of scruff sat upon his jaw, Will followed the rough hairs down Hannibal’s throat, glimpsing a patch of ample chest hair through the deep V in his shirt.

          “Your face.” It hadn’t been what Will had meant to say, but words were now at a premium as he stared at Hannibal.

          Hannibal dipped his chin, rubbing his fingers across the bristle. Will could hear the hair scrape against Hannibal’s hand and had to suppress a shiver. “Yes, I know I’m rather disheveled, but I thought it would lend me a rakish air for the first night of the festival.”

          Will blinked. He  wanted to sand himself with Hannibal’s jaw, rub it over him until every patch of available flesh was raw and open. He couldn’t seem to close his mouth, or form words in the face of all that glorious hair.

          “A miscalculation, perhaps. Allow me ten minutes and I shall shav-”

          “No.” Will had grasped Hannibal’s arm without realizing it. He squeezed the bicep beneath the fabric, checking to make sure this was real.

          “Are you sure? It would take no time.” Hannibal was watching him with interest. Will shook his head, letting his fingers remain on the strong arm.

          “Come on.” Will pulled Hannibal toward the elevators. The sooner he got to the festival, the sooner Hannibal could start seducing him.

* * *

          The cab dropped Hannibal and Will off a block from Plaza Dorrego. Hannibal and Will fell in step with the crowds, following the sounds of music past the knickknack shops and cafes of San Telmo.

          “Now I know you wanted to come here; we’ve passed three antique shops and you haven’t even glanced.”

          Hannibal smiled, but kept his eyes forward as they passed the hip high stone walls of the plaza. Clearly some sort of outdoor café during the day, the tables and chairs had all been shoved to the side to create a large space for the dancers. Boards laid on the stone to protect it made each rhythmic step echo. In the corner, a live band set up shop, with wires running under boards and live speakers echoing off the old buildings. Strings of lights ran along the treetops, and families sat out on their balconies watching the festivities below.

          “I have to admit, I figured you’d take me to a ballroom.”

          “Plaza Dorrego is home to one of the first milongas in Buenos Aires, and is still one of the most traditional places to learn the steps. Right now, we can watch as the tourists and amateurs fumble through the dance, but later, when the mate runs out, you will see the traditional foundations of the tango, performed by those who know it best.”

          “It’s beautiful here.”

          “I find myself surrounded by it.” Will knew Hannibal was looking at him, but he wasn’t brave enough to return the gaze just yet. “Find a spot along the walls and I shall return.”

          Hannibal was gone before Will could question him.

          Will found a spot to sit on the stone wall that surrounded the plaza, far enough away from the throngs to alleviate his anxiety, but with a decent view of the swirling dancers. He felt heat against his side, but didn’t take his eyes from the elegant movements before him.

          “Where did you get off to?”

          “Beverages.” Hannibal offered Will a frosty cup. “Fernet and cola, a traditional cocktail for outdoor events.”

          Will let the sugar and alcohol roll over his tongue, appreciating the sickly-sweet taste in the face of the humidity. “I can’t believe you’re drinking anything that has the word _cola_ in it.”

          “I admit, I find it a bit cloying on my palate, but the company is good and the night beautiful.”

          Will gulped the rest of his drink, hoping the alcohol would bolster the very stupid decision he was about to make. “Fine.”

          “What?”

          “Fine, I’ll dance with you.” Will, motioned to the crowd.

          “I did not ask-”

          “No, and you never would.” Will stood turning to Hannibal and holding out his arms in an appropriate approximation of the dance. He’d seen the Addams Family as a kid, it shouldn’t be too hard. “So, I’m asking. Teach me to tango, Hannibal.”

          The doctor stood, stepping carefully into Will’s space. One arm curled around the empath’s waist; the  other slid down to Will’s free hand, threading their fingers together. Hannibal shifted, bringing their chests together.

          “Tango milonguero is the style typically associated with milonga fetes.” Hannibal whispered into Will’s ear. “We dance chest to chest, leaning into each other in order to accommodate the other dancers in the space.”

          Will pressed further into Hannibal’s chest, his cheek brushing against Hannibal’s stubble.

          “Excellent, Will.” Hannibal’s grip tightened. “There are eight basic steps to an Argentine tango. We alternate between opening and closing ourselves to each other.”

          Will laughed, letting his cheek scrape against Hannibal again. “So we’ve had practice.”

          “Indeed. Are you ready to follow me?”

          Will let his eyes fall closed for a moment. “Yeah.”

          The tango was slow going at first. Will was too focused on sinking into Hannibal’s hold to worry much about crossing feet or properly closing his stance. But as they spun around with the other tourist couples, Will started to find a rhythm. Hannibal counted softly in his ear, his tone never changing when Will tromped on his toes or bumped his shins.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Beautiful, Will. Remember to cross at the ankle. Perfect._

Will allowed himself to be lulled into the motions until he was matching Hannibal’s every move, his head resting on a strong shoulder as the lights of the city blurred behind Hannibal’s head. They got through three pieces before the band made an announcement. Couples started stepping back to edges of the floor, but Will held firm when Hannibal tried to move him.

          “No. One more.”

          “The dance has changed, I’m afraid.” Will could hear the smile in Hannibal’s voice. “Though your milonguero is a thing of beauty, I’m not sure we’re ready for tango orillero.”

          Will pulled back to raise an eyebrow at Hannibal. “Are you tired already, old man?”

          Hannibal’s lip twitched just slightly at the challenge before snatching Will back to his chest.

          “The tango orillero was developed outside of dance halls in the more spacious barrios. It’s a faster moving dance that allows for room for flare, but the same eight basic steps apply.” Hannibal started them off at a breakneck pace, keeping them to the outskirts of the floor so they wouldn’t disturb the experienced dancers. Will tried to remember when to cross and close, but soon it was all he could do to keep his feet under him and remain in Hannibal’s arms.

          With a smile and a raised eyebrow, Hannibal pulled his arm sharply, letting go of Will’s waist. He flung the empath toward the crowd, tethered only by a strong grip, before reeling him back. Will landed against Hannibal’s chest with a sharp gasp, laughing as his face turned red. 

          “Show off.”

          “It’s part of the dance you wanted to do, Will.” It was, and Will had freely signed up, knowing he’d happily be chasing after the beautiful man in the black suit for the rest of his life. Hannibal took off again, Will stutter stepping behind him.

          When they finally found a rhythm, Hannibal expertly extending and flinging Will, while the empath managed to maintain his balance, Hannibal lunged forward. Will found himself cradled in Hannibal’s arms as he fell, and for a moment he could smell the salt of the Atlantic again. Will didn’t hit water this time; there was only the tight embrace and heaving chest of the man above him. Will threw his head back and laughed, moving his hands to grip Hannibal’s lapels and hold on for dear life.

          Hannibal raised him, taking off again with Will clinging to his chest. The empath couldn’t feel his feet touching the ground anymore, and lost himself in the steady pound of Hannibal’s heartbeat as the world blurred around him again.

          The music ended and Hannibal swung Will to a stop, laughing helplessly. He looked younger with his bangs in his face, his smile unguarded as it revealed his crooked teeth. Will squinted at the expression, the crinkles around Hannibal’s eyes, the sheen of Hannibal’s sweat glowing in the low light. Will closed his eyes and waited for his kiss.

          When it didn’t come, Will opened his eyes to find Hannibal smiling, looking over Will’s face as if he were memorizing every crease and cell. In that moment, Will’s finally allowed himself to use his empathy. All the fighting and cajoling had been for this one moment. This chance to hold Will in his arms and spin around the floor. To dance by all the horror and pain they’d inflicted on each other over the years and just – enjoy the embrace. A dance and a few panting smiles would be enough for Hannibal, but were they enough for Will?

          He blinked. They’d made it so difficult, so immensely complicated, but this? This was simple.

          And inevitable.

          “Will?” Hannibal was still a bit winded, his puffing breaths cooling Will’s heated skin.

          “Ah, hell,” Will yanked at Hannibal’s lapels and brought their mouths together.

          This kiss began as a startled crash, but quickly shifted into something deeper. Hannibal tilted his mouth, slotting them together as teeth and tongue explored. Reluctantly allowing for air, Will held Hannibal tight against him as he gasped, only to feel sharp teeth worry the muscle flexing in his neck.

          “You have no idea how this sternocleidomastoid has tortured me over the years,” Hannibal growled into the flesh before taking another bite of the muscle. Will’s knees went weak, held up by his grip on Hannibal’s coat and the teeth still nipping at his neck. 

          “We need a bed,” Will groaned into Hannibal’s ear. He rubbed his check against Hannibal’s stubble, relishing the burn before he sought the doctor’s mouth again. “Now.”

          Hannibal wrapped an arm around Will’s waist and pulled him toward the street. He hailed a cab and gallantly held the door open as Will climbed in. Will watched as Hannibal gave the driver instructions, feeling dazed now that he was free of Hannibal’s mouth.

          They sat in silence, Will frantically wondering what to do for 10 minutes and Hannibal adopting the eerie stillness that Will hated so much. But when he turned to mock him, Will noticed Hannibal’s face. Impassive to the casual glance, Will could see the smile upturning the ends of Hannibal’s mouth. The doctor’s eyes were soft and the empath realized his cannibal was in his mind palace being kissed over and over by Will.

          Will took Hannibal’s face gently in his hands, guiding the doctor into a soft, worshipful kiss. When he pulled back, Hannibal’s smile was in Will’s eyes. The two spent the remaining moments in the cab exchanging chaste kisses and warm looks.

          As they traversed the lobby, Will took Hannibal’s arm, unwilling to break contact for even a few steps. Hannibal’s chest puffed as he led Will to the elevators, his head raising regally to look down on those not lucky enough to have a Will Graham on their arm.

          When the elevator doors opened, a family of four stepped into the small space with them. Crushed that he couldn’t press Hannibal into the walls and attempt to suck his tongue out again, Will scowled at the happy couple and their adorable kids. Long fingers wrapped around Will’s hips, subtly drawing him back into the heat of Hannibal’s front. A stubbled chin rubbed along the back of Will’s neck, forcing the empath to bite back a moan.

          “I’m beginning to think your love for scruffy creatures isn’t limited to dogs, Will.” Hannibal’s chin scratched just behind Will’s ear, earning him a whimper and a dirty look from the mother. Hannibal merely raised a brow at her disapproval and continued to nuzzle into Will’s exposed neck like a cat.

          They stumbled off the elevator together, Will forced to take awkward little steps in his painfully tight pants.

          Hannibal paused outside his door, keycard in hand. “We don’t have to-”

          “Yes we fucking do.” Will snatched the card from Hannibal’s hand and shoved the doctor against the door, pinning him in place with his lips. It took several fumbles before Will finally managed to open the lock, but neither man was willing to release the other.

          They fell into the room, stumbling and grappling with clothes as Will kicked the door shut. They clashed back together, their closeness making undressing difficult, but the need to feel each other too great to ignore. When Will finally kicked out of his shoes and pants, he looked up to see the Hannibal bare before him.

          He wanted to say something about the beauty of Hannibal’s body. How much he has dreamed about the thick thatch of greying chest hair. How desperately he wanted to possess every inch of the man before him.

          But everything fell to the wayside under the weight of Hannibal’s stare. His intensity was bewildering, a heady mixture of adoration and pure, animal lust. Will did the only thing he could think to do – he pounced.

          The full weight of Will Graham launched from a foot away barely staggered Hannibal for a moment. Caught and brought to the bed in a matter of moments, Will’s only option was to cling to the man over top of him and moan. He clutched Hannibal’s head in trembling hands, guiding that scruffy chin down his heaving chest.

          Hannibal stopped, light in his eyes as he watched Will. Lifting his chin he delicately licked Will’s nipple, before rubbing his bristly jaw against the taut flesh. Will keened, sparks of pain and pleasure tangling into the back of his brain.

          “How interesting,” Hannibal murmured. “Is it the scratch of the stubble or the idea of a beard that’s provoked this reaction?”

          Words were far too much for him at this point. Will could only tighten his grip on Hannibal’s hair as he arched to rub shamelessly against his jaw.

          “Noted.” Hannibal smirked as he pressed scratchy kisses down Will’s torso. The doctor conspicuously skipped over Will’s flushed cock, instead choosing to part his thighs and settle between them. With the pads of his fingers, he ran a hand slowly up one leg and down another, watching Will writhe. “Such delicate flesh, on the inner thighs. The barest touch can send waves of sensation through the body.”

          Hannibal raked his nails over Will’s leg, making him hiss.

          “Alter the pressure slightly…” Hannibal licked at the livid red scratches. Will released Hannibal’s head to grab fistfuls of his own hair. “and the reaction is quite different.”

          “Ha-hanni-” Will tried to shake loose the words, but his body was too overwhelmed to form them.

          “I wonder…” Hannibal lifted Will’s right leg, resting it over his shoulder. Watching Will intently, Hannibal began rubbing his cheek against Will’s thigh – long, languid strokes that flexed his neck. Will choked off a scream arching into the feeling. Unbidden, he wrapped his other leg around Hannibal’s neck. The doctor hummed, carefully holding Will’s shaking thighs as he rubbed them raw.

          Will was mindless at the sensation, squeezing Hannibal’s face between his thighs, wanting the doctor to peel the flesh from his bones with nothing but his chin. His cock jerked, untouched and leaking down his stomach as he moved against Hannibal’s face. Strong hands bracketed Will’s legs, pulling them apart. Will was about to protest when he felt the first lick to the tip of his cock.

          Hannibal began to slowly lap at the head of Will’s cock, suckling gently on every other pass. He lipped at the frenulum, causing his stubble to lightly brush against Will’s shaft. The empath was limbless, unable to encourage or aid in the Hannibal’s quest to take him apart. All he could do was cry _ah ah ah_ as Hannibal gently drew pleasure from him, varying between soft tongue, bristled jaw, and warm suction. It was too much and Will was sure he’d die from it.

          “I- Hann I-” Will managed before spilling down Hannibal’s throat. Hannibal held him through the shudders, gently licking along Will’s soft cock until the empath made a small, entreating noise.

          Hannibal crawled up Will’s body with the loose-limbed movements of a cat. He settled on Will’s chest, rubbing his chin softly against the flesh beneath it.

          “Hello, Will.”

          “Jesus.” It was the first word Will could form, he found himself rather proud of it.

          “No,” Hannibal corrected with a teasing frown. “Hannibal. Hannibal Lecter? I believe we’ve met a few-”

          Will kissed him, smiling into Hannibal’s mouth when the smirk died off the doctor’s lips. Kissing Hannibal Lecter silent was going to be a favorite trick, he could tell.

          Hannibal shifted, his erection pressing into Will’s thigh as he tried to devour Will. They lay like that for a long time, sharing body heat and breath as they claimed each other’s mouths. Finally, Will felt himself stirring, his hips rolling into Hannibal’s to seek friction.

          “I’m ready.”

          “Will, I would be content to-”

          Will kissed him, a thrill running through his chest when Hannibal melted into his body with a moan.

          “I want you to fuck me,” Will whispered in Hannibal’s ear. Hannibal’s brow creased at the term. With a small laugh, Will amended. “Or make love to me or conjoin our souls, whatever you want to call it.” 

          “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer penetrating me?”

          “Tomorrow,” Will kissed Hannibal softly, rubbing his nose against that rough cheek. “When my legs work.”

          Hannibal smiled, reaching for the bedside table and picking up a little bottle that was next to two mints. “Apparently Sara had confidence in our outing this evening.”

          “She’s good.” Will nodded with a small smile. He looked at Hannibal with a furrowed brow, nerves finally finding their way to the surface. “So, uh, what do I do? I mean I know what happens, but is there a…”  

          He could feel himself turning red. Hannibal kissed him softly. “Tonight, your task is to trust in me.”

          It was a small request, but one Will had never been able to grant Hannibal. It had tripped them up time and again, over cliffs and into the sea. With an unsteady hand, he drew Hannibal in for a kiss. “I can do that.”

          “Good.” Hannibal kissed Will again, before moving between the empath’s sprawled legs. He lifted Will’s knees to rest on his shoulder, and Will breathed through the wave of uncertainty of being this exposed to anyone. Uncapping the bottle, Hannibal poured some of the lube onto his fingers before lowering his hand between Will’s legs and brushing them against his testicles. “There will be a pressure at first, but there should not be pain. If you wish to stop, we will stop.”

          The first touch was cold and Will tensed immediately, Hannibal’s fingers remained by his balls, stroking softly until he saw Will’s muscles relax. Dipping lower, Will felt the elegant fingers stroking between his cheeks, with just the barest pressure whenever they passed his hole. The sensation was pleasant and Will found himself pressing back into Hannibal’s hands.

          “Beautiful,” Hannibal whispered, pausing to kiss Will’s knee. His free hand began to stroke the inside of Will’s thigh lightly, nails catching on every third or fourth pass. Will was so focused on their trail, he wasn’t expecting the breach. He tensed and Hannibal stilled immediately, kissing Will’s thigh and petting him softly until he relaxed into the intrusion.

          It was an odd sort of pressure, but Hannibal’s cheek and stroking fingers felt so good, Will hardly noticed it. When he sank relaxed into the mattress, Hannibal smiled, crooking his finger and brushing softly against Will’s prostate. Will bowed, a wail forcing its way out of his throat.

          “Again,” he gasped. Hannibal’s smile turned smug.

          “Would you like more, Will?” His tone was soft, almost innocent. Will swiped lazily at his face.

          “You smug bastard, don’t you fucking tease me.”

          The second finger burned more than the first, but Will leaned into the pain, hoping for another shock of pure pleasure.

          Hannibal obliged, his fingers skirting around and over Will’s prostate as he stretched him. “No, no teasing tonight, my love.”

          Will moaned, as much from the term as the electric sparks shooting up his spine. Hannibal continued the torture, keeping Will begging and arching into long fingers and smiling lips. When the fingers slipped out, Will whimpered, body clenching to keep Hannibal with him.

          “Shhh, shhh, my cunning boy.” Hannibal slipped Will’s legs around his hips and pressed into Will’s body with a single slow thrust. He leaned over Will, supporting his weight on his elbows and wrapping his forearms under Will’s shoulders.

          The breach burned, but Will held onto Hannibal with a ferocity he didn’t know he had. He bit into Hannibal’s neck, clawing at his back, trying at once to get away and pull Hannibal closer.  

          Hannibal rolled his hips once, and Will’s body responded by clenching tight as Hannibal grazed his prostate. A second roll and Hannibal’s face was pecking soft little kisses onto Will’s cheeks, a question hanging in this expression.

          “More,” Will demanded, latching onto Hannibal’s lips and kissing him hard. The rolling thrusts became more commanding, Hannibal’s cradling arms falling to Will’s hips to hold him in place as he was taken. Will began rocking back, finding a rhythm that sent his eyes back into his head. “ _Fuck_ I didn’t know. I d-didn’t know.”

          He had always been afraid of Hannibal’s love, of the consumption that awaited him should he succumb to it. But now Will welcomed the teeth and claws that overtook him, wondering why he’d been afraid of being devoured by such a glorious creature.

          Hannibal snarled, his thrusts getting harder as he panted into Will’s mouth. Will reached between them to rub his cock, only to be slapped away. Hannibal’s hand moved between them then. Nimble fingers squeezed Will until his vision sparked with little patches of white.

          He came screaming Hannibal’s name, Hannibal following him over the edge of the cliff as always. As Will came back to himself, he felt Hannibal slip from him and shift onto the cool sheets. He mourned the loss until Hannibal smile was pressed once again into Will’s scar and little kisses dotted his brow.

          “Amor, ch'a nullo amato amar perdona,” Hannibal whispered against his lips. The word _amor_ rang in Will’s ears before taking up residence in his chest. He felt warmth suffuse his system as he felt its meaning creep into his mind.  

          Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal, ignoring the mess and the heat for the chance to be closer to him. He could have had this for years; he had been foolish enough to throw it away – in kitchens, in small abandoned Wolf Trap bedrooms, and even over a cliff. But Hannibal’s heart, like the rest of him, was stronger and more formidable than it appeared. It dragged itself back to Will each time, ready to try again.  

          He looked into Hannibal’s eyes and nearly choked on everything he needed to confess to this man. There was so much to say, to declare, but the words felt meager on Will’s tongue. So instead of trying to translate his love into a verse from Dante, he pulled Hannibal closer, pillowing his head on the doctor’s chest and stretching into the fingers running through his hair. “Go to sleep, Hannibal.”

* * *

          Will knew Hannibal was staring at him in the early morning light. He should have been bothered by it, but he found he could only smile, pressing his face into the pillow to hide the brightness of his expression.

          Cracking an eye open, he blearily took in the cannibal sprawled next to him, grinning quietly as his eyes traced Will’s face. “You look goofy when you’re happy.”

          “You look beautiful when you’re bedraggled.” Hannibal let a finger trace the long scar on Will’s cheek. He pressed a kiss into the edge of the scar, then gestured to a table at the foot of the bed. “I’ve ordered breakfast and coffee.”

          Will made a noncommittal noise, scrunching closer to Hannibal in the sleep-warm sheets. He was welcomed with open arms and soft kisses. Will made small token noises of displeasure at the adoration, but leaned into them nonetheless. When Hannibal finally let him up for air, Will found he missed the suffocating affection and frowned as Hannibal moved to sit up.

          “So, what happens now?”

          “We have breakfast.”

          “Cute.” Will rolled his eyes and sat up, he ran a hand over a red patch on his thigh, realizing with a blush that it was beard burn. “I mean, what happens now that we’ve fucked?”

          Hannibal’s straight back stiffened a bit more, but his voice remained irritatingly calm. “Nothing, everything. It’s your decision to make.”

          “That hasn’t been a great strategy for you in the past.” Will watched Hannibal pour two cups of coffee from the food cart. Hannibal handed Will a cup before taking a seat next to him on the mattress, careful not to crowd Will as they sipped. 

          “I would argue that the plan offers great long-term rewards if one is willing to withstand the short-term pain.”

          “You have to pay to play.”

          “If you like.” Hannibal frowned into his mug. “I am more than willing to take the traditional routes of a formal courtship, if you’re more comfortable with that idea. There’s no need for you to move into my room immediately.”

          “I’m not moving into your room.”

          “If you don’t wish to repeat last night, I understand,” Hannibal seemed to be studying his coffee intently.

          Will guzzled his coffee, relishing the burn as it rushed down his throat. Licking his lips, he raised an eyebrow at the doctor. “I’m not moving into your room because I refuse to sleep in a bed with baroque cherubs carved into the headboard. It’s  fucking creepy. I have a better view anyway, so the sensible plan would be to move you into my room.”

          Hannibal’s head snapped up. Will let a smile curl at the edge of his mouth before putting a warning finger on Hannibal’s nose.

          “Just you; the dead animal paintings stay where they are.”

          “You wish me to move into your room now?”

          “No,” Will patted Hannibal’s knee as he stood, padding toward the coffee pot for a refill. “You can wait til we get home; no sense in you making a special trip.”

          When Will turned, the steam of the coffee filtering past his eyes, Hannibal had the same youthful beam on his face that had stopped Will’s heart cold the night before. Will smirked into his coffee, finishing a second cup before joining Hannibal back on the bed. He took the mug from Hannibal’s hand, setting it on the nightstand before biting lightly at Hannibal’s shoulder.

          “I find myself at a total loss for words.” Hannibal leaned into Will’s mouth, shivering slightly.

          “Good. I don’t feel like talking.” Will ran a hand through the fur of Hannibal’s chest, pushing him back toward the pillows. “I was hoping to go over that last dance you taught me a few more times.”

          Hannibal’s brow furrowed, lust-blown eyes squinting as they tried to parse out the words. “You wish me to show you the tango orillero again?”

          “No!” Will moved to bite at Hannibal’s earlobe, puffing a hot breath into his ear. “I was talking about the horizontal mambo.”

          Will waggled his eyebrows, waiting patiently for Hannibal’s desire-addled brain to catch up.

          “Mambo? We never-” Will cackled when realization flamed over Hannibal's cheeks and eyes. Hannibal grabbed a pillow with a snarl and thwacked the empath in the head. The next few minutes were spent with Hannibal and Will fighting over the pillow, both breathless with laughter. 

* * *

          Will frowned as Hannibal pressed another piece of sardo to Will’s lips. He accepted the bite, savoring how the salt in Hannibal’s fingers brought out the richness of the cheese. Will was getting frighteningly attached to being hand fed in a nest of Egyptian cotton.

          “We have to go out eventually.” Will tried to sound put out, but found himself seeking another piece of cheese from Hannibal’s fingertips.

          “Hmmm…perhaps tonight?”

          “It’s been three days and we haven’t moved from this bed.”

          “We were on the balcony for at least an hour.”

          Will blushed, ducking his head to retrieve a chunk of cheese and shove it between Hannibal’s smirking lips. He thought about the hand-prints and lip smears Hannibal had left over the glass balustrade as Will thrust into him, and the flaming red face of Sara, as she dutifully Windexed the conspicuously smudged glass before turning down their bed. They had managed to scandalize Sara no less than eight times in the past few days; she now entered their room with her back turned. “You were the one who wanted to go to this stupid festival. Don’t you want to see it?”

          “I find myself quite content with my current view.” Hannibal shifted, grabbing his glass of Malbec and dribbling a slow stream onto Will’s chest. Will gasped, arching up as Hannibal’s tongue began lapping along the hollow of his throat. “Perhaps we can go out later? After I’ve finished my wine?”

          Will sank his fingers into Hannibal’s hair, guiding him to a wine covered nipple. “Tomorrow, we’re definitely leaving the room tomorrow.”

* * *

          Will looked out over the Recoleta as he sipped his coffee. They had managed to leave their room for a few hours to catch the closing exhibition at the festival. Most of the performance had been missed as they spent their time stealing glances, sharing secret smiles, and finding dark corridors to press each other into for clandestine gropes and kisses. It was stupid and juvenile, and Will would miss it terribly when they went home.

          “What will we do when we get back, after the mongrels are done inspecting us and demanding treats?” Hannibal stepped out onto the balcony, dressed in a linen suit with a black shirt. His hair ruffled in the breeze as he leaned next to Will’s chair.

          Will looked up at Hannibal, studying the regal profile as the doctor surveyed the lush parks below. “Well, you’ll be busy moving your stuff into my room and I’ll be busy tearing up the kitchen.”

          “Has my cooking become that distasteful?”

          Will scratched at a mark on the arm of the chair, grazing Hannibal’s fingers as he worked. “You said you didn’t have enough counter space. I’ll need to tear up the counters if you want room to roll out your people dough or whatever it is you do.”  

          “I don’t need the counters right now, Will.”

          Will looked up with soft eyes. “You’ve waited long enough.”

          “Very well.” Hannibal frowned slightly but nodded. “I’ll plan for meals that shall require little prep time.”

          “Wanna pick up some Spaghetti Os and Rice Krispies before we go home?”

          “Let’s not resort to something so drastic. I’ve cured several cuts from the leg of that unfortunate contractor who ruined the tiles in the bathroom. I’m sure we can make due with some sandwiches for a week or so.”

          “Making a sub from a sub-contractor, how can I resist?”

          Hannibal caught Will’s finger in his hand, pulling it up to his lips. “I’m glad you no longer do.”

* * *

          Will moved the last of the bags into the hallway. It had taken three trips instead of two since Hannibal seemed to be permanently latched to his right hand. He tried not to close his eyes in pleasure as Hannibal absently rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb, while supervising the bellhop.

          “Ah, shit, I left my phone, one sec.” Will dropped Hannibal’s hand and stepped back into the room. He looked at the rumpled bed and room service trays, a soft smile curling his lips. It was beautiful.

          With quick strides, he moved to the desk, snatching an embossed stationery pad off the desk and slipping it into his satchel. Clearing his throat, he schooled his expression into something a little gruffer before returning to Hannibal’s side.

          “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He walked by Hannibal without looking, but was careful to thread their fingers together as he tugged them toward home.  

 


End file.
